


Capernoited

by traditionalfire



Series: Miraak/Arya the Dragonborn [7]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Drinking, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 07:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3373361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traditionalfire/pseuds/traditionalfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Tumblr prompt from changeling-fae for the word meme: "Capernoited – Slightly intoxicated or tipsy"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capernoited

Eight drinks in, Miraak still showed no signs of drunkenness. Arya, on the other hand, was only on her second flagon of mead, and her companion was already ready to cut her off.

“Did you know…” she mumbled, leaning more of her weight on him than the bench, “that you have a cute butt?”

“I had no idea, actually,” he sighed. It was, in fact, the third time that night she’d mentioned it.

“You’re so… What’s that word?” She stared up at the ceiling, like the word would be up in the rafters. “Oh, right. You’re _hot_.”

Miraak sighed again, despite the swelling of his ego, and gently wrestled the flagon from her grip. “And you’re drunk, my little _dovah_. I think we should get you into bed. It’s been a long day already.”

“Oh, you’re always trying to get me into bed,” she cooed, as he hefted her over his shoulder with ease. If she’d been sober, the position would have been humiliating, but sobriety was a distant memory. “Not that I’m complaining…”

“Hush,” he chided, though the smirk he wore seeped into his tone. “There will be none of that tonight. You’re in no condition.”

“Pfft.” Arya tried to ignore the way her hair bounced into her face with every step up towards their room. The spectacular view of his backside was a good distraction. “I’m in every condition!”

“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” he laughed. The door to their room finally creaked open, and she was unceremoniously tossed onto the bed.

 _Logic_ was clearly not working on him, so she changed tactics. As soon as the door was closed once more, she began clumsily removing the many layers of clothing needed to keep the cold of Windhelm at bay. Miraak took no notice, as he began to remove his own armor, folding every piece neatly before placing them in the armoire. By the time he finally turned to her, Arya had strewn her clothing across the bed and floor, and was eyeing him over like a sabre cat stalking a deer.

“Arya…” He approached the bed with caution. He was going to have to sleep at some point, and he was already so tired, but the little minx was going to be a problem.

“Mmm, I love how you say my name,” she purred, or so she thought. It was really more like slurring.

“I’ll say it all you like if you behave. _Tomorrow_.” He gave her a stern glare for good measure.

Arya sighed. “Why are you so hot if you’re going to be no fun?” Her full lips made for a beautiful pout, and for just a moment he wondered if he’d made the wrong choice. Then she stuck her tongue out at him. Hmm, yes, she needed to sleep that mead off.

Content that she was subdued for the moment, he blew the candle out and slipped into bed with her. He felt her shift next to him, first to her left side, then to her right, and then back to her left, as she curled up against the warmth of his much bulkier frame. Several minutes passed in silence, with only the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his side. Praise Kyne, she was asleep, and hopefully would wake up sober and not terribly hungover.

“Did you know you have a nice butt?” she murmured sleepily against his shoulder. His exasperated groan was the last thing she heard before she drifted off into a wonderfully deep sleep.


End file.
